


Let It Snow

by Zeitvergessen (Wortspiel)



Category: Timeless (TV 2016)
Genre: Christmas Fluff, F/M, First Kiss, Garcy Secret Santa 2020, Kissing in the Snow, Stranded
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-27
Updated: 2020-12-27
Packaged: 2021-03-10 18:26:43
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28361643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Wortspiel/pseuds/Zeitvergessen
Summary: My little gift for Garcy Secret Santa 2020. Prompt: "First kiss in the snow... Snowmen..." :D
Relationships: Garcia Flynn/Lucy Preston
Comments: 6
Kudos: 28





	Let It Snow

**Author's Note:**

> After experiencing some technical difficulties, finally, and hopefully still in time, my gift for MK! I hope it does reach your expectations. I sure did have fun writing. :) A belated Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year to all of you!

Lucy was freezing as she stared out through a gaping hole in the wall ahead. The sight of snowflakes graciously descending from the heavens, reflecting the dim shine of their sole flickering oil lamp - stunning, undoubtedly.

But how was she meant to enjoy it if she was all too focused on somehow retaining the little warmth the few layers of period accurate clothing provided?   
Maybe this was it. Maybe this was how she was meant to leave this ludicrous world. And someday, in the near future, someone would, on their walk through the icy forest to gather firewood, find this huddled up Lucy-shaped icicle and wonder why on earth one would dare go out here in these freezing temperatures with nothing but a flimsy coat. Well, the explanation was easy enough:   
Emma.   
  
Scowling she nestled deeper into her ‘borrowed’ coat.

Their escape had been frenzied. Emma's goons had outnumbered them greatly this time. Contrary to what most common action movies or TV series suggested on an everyday basis, the villainous woman learned from past mistakes. After realizing that her scheming powers matched the time team's and obviously being sick of being outwitted, she had made use of the one big advantage she owned: Unlimited jumps, nuclear battery. Thank you very much, Flynn.   
That way it was rather easy to transport more than four capable people back, add some she converted right here. Tada, brute power to tear your opponents to shreds while the witch herself sashayed off to form the world to her pleasing.   
  
"You just had to steal that nuke, didn't you?" Lucy needled, clearly more than unpleased with the overall situation. She earned a grunt in reply.   
Great, don't talk to me then.

She was used to one-sided conversations.   
She'd had plenty of those with her dear mother. Mainly due to the woman's general disinterest in everything and anything that didn't involve history or shaping her daughter into a tool for her malicious machinations. She had always waived it as her mother being first too absorbed by work, then too sick. Well, hindsight is always easier than foresight.

As goes for their escape route. If they had chosen to dash right instead of left, their path wouldn't have been cut off, they would have been able to take the front door of the barn and would have reached the Lifeboat in time to get to safety with Wyatt and Jiya. Instead they had soon found themselves cornered on a window ledge, wildly gesticulating for their friends to take their chance and disappear and, once the time machine was charged, pick them up at the agreed meeting point.

Which was, much to her chagrin, the ramshackle hut they had resided in the night before, hidden in the nearby forest. The one with the damaged roof, through which snow and wind now swept in relentlessly, whistling and howling, rattling on decaying wood.   
Who would have expected such a sudden snowfall? Well, not them, obviously. This was just her luck.   
  
"This wasn't exactly how I imagined Christmas Eve."   
Another noncommittal grunt.   
  
"How long does it take for the Lifeboat to charge again?"   
Grunt.   
  
"Come on, I'm not asking you to elaborate, just give me one little word."   
Less than a grunt. Just a huff.   
  
"Are you seriously sulking?"   
A glare. Her patience with him was thinning dangerously. The bone-chilling cold did not help.  
  
As if this was her fault. _She_ did not pick their direction to run. In fact, she had rather been dragged along as he made the split-second decision to leave before Emma's henchmen riddled them with bullets.   
As she knew him, his current foul mood probably wasn't even directed at her, but at himself. For picking the wrong one in a fifty-fifty choice. How ridiculous. But so very much like him.   
Though _this_ brooding and dark was seldomly seen on him lately and it had her a little concerned. His usual snark, obviously part of his personal armor to protect whatever precious insides he hid, flew out the window as soon as the snow danced in.   
  
"You aren't hurt, are you?"   
It just suddenly occurred to her. Their escape had been a close call. Maybe closer that she had realized. She ran her eyes over him but, thankfully, couldn't find a hint to any kind of injury, which decelerated her suddenly picked up heartbeat just a tiny bit. On the other hand, he seemed to own the troublesome ability to somehow masterfully hide any damage done to his body until he was sure safety was in close reach. He had proven it several times. Most striking in San Francisco, when he had held her, nearly carried her back to the Lifeboat, only there revealing the clean through and through piercing his left shoulder that Emma had gifted him with.

She shuddered at the memory of that cruel, cruel day. The loss. The pain. But that was in the past - well, from their actual point of view, technically in the future, but let's leave that out of the picture for now - and Rufus was alive and well, probably right now racing through the hangar to somehow accelerate charging and get them back before they could break their frozen toes off one by one.   
  
Stopping herself from drifting off any further, she focused back on the obstinate man by her side, clearly caught up in his very own doom loop of malevolent thoughts.

If it wasn’t for the dilemma they were currently stuck in, he would have made a rather handsome picture, she observed. His usually neatly parted dark hair tousled by the wind and covered in snowflakes as if someone had powder sugared him. The sleek coat he had stolen gracefully accentuated his broad back, those long and very capable arms. Even in his huddled-up posture. Catching herself admiring Flynn’s appearance of all people, she blamed it on the cold surely making her delirious. But who was she kidding? Ever since San Francisco, his mysterious down to one-knee move, that intense gaze, she had been stealing glances every now and then. If just to decipher what exactly was going on inside of that enigmatic head of his!

Again her eyes came to rest upon him, roam up from his folded hands to his face, cheeks and the tip of his nose tinged pink, puffs of breath calmly ascending from his mouth – aaaand he was gnawing the insides of his cheeks. Alright, that was it. No more overthinking. At least for her. She’d take action before she’d freeze on the spot. A bit of motion would probably serve to warm them up, if just a little.

With that in mind she rose from her spot.

“Where are you goin-“

Aha! Now he could talk. But this was her turn to remain silent. A smirk twitching on her lips, she stepped through the door, which was, in all honesty, nothing more than a rotting board of wood crookedly clinging to its rusty hinges.

A few hours must have passed already since Jiya and Wyatt had taken off with the Lifeboat. Just a bit longer to go, she told herself as she ran her hand across the skewed windowsill, gathering up soft, chilly white.

*

Flynn followed her with his eyes as Lucy left their poor excuse of a shelter. The snowfall had died down to a fizzle by now, so he didn’t deem it dangerous as long as she did not wander off. But nevertheless, why would she go out there? Except for himself being as obnoxious as he could be for the majority of their stay.

Heaving a sigh, he got up from the shabby wooden bench he was perched on and rubbed his upper arms in an unsuccessful attempt to generate at least a little warmth. Up until now he had been too fraught to even consider lighting a fire. He carried a lighter with him and given most of the hut’s insides were at least dry, it wouldn’t be hard to do so, but the far off howling and yapping of dogs, the constant shouting, had made him banish that idea at least until Emma and her entourage of naïve brutes had given up their nightly search for them. Now that it was quiet, he was rather tempted to keep them from succumbing to hypothermia. As soon as he’d ushered Lucy back inside, he’d break down the two brittle old chairs and pile up the debris to light it. At least ventilation of their campfire wouldn’t pose a problem with the ‘conveniently’ already present holes in the ceiling.

Still in thought he stuck his head out the door, spotted Lucy a few feet away bathed in pale moonlight and, just as he was about to call, was _– splat_ – rewarded with a mouthful of mushy snow.

Spitting and rubbing the cold off his face, a splutter hit his ears. A delightful mixture of stifled laughter and apology laced with a note of sudden fright.

“Oh- Oh my g- Flynn- I swear, I didn’t mean t- to hit your face! Ah- I’m so, so sorry. Here, let me hel-”

He caught her wrist mid-raise on her way up to wipe away any remaining speck of snow on his skin. And he mustered the most menacing glare he could come up with, building himself up to his full height just to tower over her form.

He swore he heard her swallow in dread just then, which undoubtedly made it a hundred times harder to stare her down.

“Lucy,” he growled, and she twitched in response. Unlike so many detested hostile encounters before, however, there was now fight in her. He felt it in the way she tensed. But there was something else that cracked him. There was anxiety in her eyes, but also clear knowledge that he wouldn’t hurt her. That he’d probably shut her out until somebody, hopefully, eventually came for their rescue. But nothing more.

Again, her name rolled off his tongue, his voice now devoid of feigned threat, slurring into a smirking drawl. “Luuucy.”

Oh, she had not noticed how he’d scooped up snow with his free hand. All the more fun it was to hear her screech in distress when he swiftly raised it to drizzle freezing flakes onto her neck.

And before he knew what was happening, they were both wrapped up in a full-blown, tooth and nail, snowball fight.

At least until Lucy slipped - heavens, one day he’d simply die of heart failure watching her being the klutz she was - and nearly brained herself on the ice she had stepped on.

Dropping his next chilly missile in an instant, he lunged forward and almost toppled over catching her mid-fall. Heart in his throat, pounding in his ears for more than just the physical exertion of their wintry war, he stared down to take in her upside-down shocked expression.

Standing there in the dead of night, heaving steaming breaths into the dark, words seemed to have left her.

Not him though. Never him.

“Oy. Helping Emma by accidentally bashing your own skull open is prohibited. Roger that?”

Swallowing, Lucy nodded and stared for just a second too long before she slowly began her shaky attempt to draw herself up on his arms.

As soon as they had, in combined efforts, maneuvered her into an upright position and off the icy death trap, Flynn automatically set to right her coat, adjusting her collar and brushing the snow off where it stuck to the fabric. Belatedly his brain reminded him that neither of them had progressed to such tender actions towards the other, but instead of snatching his hands back, he gently rested them on her shoulders.

“You okay?”

Again, she nodded, a shiver running through her body. The urge to pull her close and wrap her in his arms nearly became unbearable then and there. If he had just decided to go right instead of left, she would now be cozy and warm inside the bunker, wrapped up in a blanket and mulling over this failure of a mission in safety. But no, she was here, with him, stuck in a forest with the prospect of freezing to death and now she was slowly coming closer? –

She wrapped her arms around his midriff tightly and muttered a muted "Thank you" into his coat.   
  
"That goes without saying," he responded, still startled by her sudden show of affection.   
"I can't have you hurt yourself here. If you blacked out, I'd have a hard time keeping you warm-"   
  
"No, not just for that. For being here with me. With us. Protecting us. Even Wyatt. That does not at all go without saying."

A crooked smirk curled the corners of his lips upwards. “Sure it does. ‘Tis the least I can do to-”

"Don't you dare say something stupid like 'pay for my sins'," Lucy interjected and prompted a low chuckle from Flynn.   
  
"I meant to say 'help'. But it seems like you see right through me, hm?" No longer able to resist his desire, he embraced her in return. If just for sharing a little warmth. He could use that excuse later on, couldn’t he?  
  
For a silent moment they just stood there, holding each other close amidst a fine rain of glittery snowflakes.   
  
"For what it's worth, I am glad to be stuck here with _you_ ," she murmured so silently, Flynn was nearly sure he imagined it altogether. Not intending to destroy the tranquil moment, he remained silent, pondered it. Sooner than anticipated, she broke his musings.  
  
Leisurely, almost reluctant to draw away and out of the warmth his embrace provided, Lucy leaned back. Already resigning on his stubborn impulse to just take it a little further, Flynn searched her eyes and was pleasantly surprised that she seemed just as unwilling to end this moment so quickly. Had he not misheard?

Gazing up at him through long dark lashes, her eyes radiated such unexpected fondness, his poor old heart almost stumbled in his chest. How exactly had they gone from showering each other in fresh white snow to such tender touches?

Frost had grazed her skin, beautifully tinting her cheeks a rosy hue. Gorgeous, his mind supplied unhelpfully. Almost on instinct he unwound his arms from behind her back and tenderly cradled her jaw in his palms.

_Idiot, what the hell do you think you’re doing?_ Screamed some revolting part of his brain, but he muffled it, buried it deep within himself. Later on, when he was alone again, left in his bunker room to muse about this failure that he called his life, he'd have plenty time to regret one more stupid choice in a long, long row of unnecessary mistakes. For this moment, however, he was caught in her spell.   
  
"You're wrong about one thing, Flynn."

Startled out of his reverie, he blinked.   
"Oh, I believe there are many thi-"

But before he had the chance to finish, she was up on her toes, softly pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips. Innocent and brave all at the same time and he nearly lost it then and there.

"You really do know nothing about my type."

Oh, that wicked little smile she offered him. How could he possibly withstand it? How could he, in any way, ever, even consider turning this impressively smart, stunningly beautiful woman down? For her sake, the logical part of his mind snapped, but it died among the whirlwind of emotions she evoked with every confident step in his direction.   
_Lucy_ , chanted the storm. _Lucy, Lucy, Lucy._   
And he was lost in it.   
  
Leaning in, he burrowed his fingers into her soft brown locks and kissed her deeply.   
Lucy. His Lucy. If just for these few short but oh, so precious minutes.  
Even if he didn't deserve it, any of this. Even though he would certainly regret it in several ways. Her smile against his lips gave him hope...

*

Rufus heaved a heavy sigh as he zipped up his jacket.

“Why exactly did I spend my entire Christmas Eve trying to invent ‘fast charging’ for a time machine if those two had so much fun spending their time out here?” He lamented, nevertheless undoubtedly proud that his efforts had been rewarded with success. But Wyatt, who had insisted to come along, was far too occupied to answer. As Lucy’s voice carried verses of ‘Let It Snow’ out into the night, accompanied by Flynn’s baritone hum, Rufus’ companion was all too busy staring so intensely at the cute little snowman guarding the huts entrance, that one might believe it would simply melt under the heat of his vitriolic glare.


End file.
